it was produced by a stroke of the sword of one of the giants of old, which divided the mountains and left them apart for ever.

5. Anywhere and under any circumstances, this rugged and gloomy pass would be a most striking object; but its interest and its importance are, no doubt, considerably enhanced by the position it occupies in the very centre of gentle and delicious beauty. The varied greenery of the pleasant glades that skirt the lakes, or line the banks of their tributary rivers, has hardly faded from the eye before the bleak and barren rocks, of forms as varied and fantastic as they are numerous, are placed before it; and the ear, in lieu of the mingled harmony of dancing leaves, and rippling waters and songs of birds, is compelled to listen only to the brawling and angry stream rushing onwards, wasting its strength in foam, but continually changing its form-here a creeping rivulet-here a broad lake and there a fierce cataract.

6. Along the banks of the river is a narrow and circuitous path. On the right, the Reeks, with their grandmaster Carran-tuel-" the inverted sickle"-the highest mountain in Ireland, look down upon the dark glen; while on the left, Tomies and the Purple Mountain rise above it, and with a more gracious countenance; for their sides are not so steep but that the goat finds sure footing and pleasant pasture; and the cow-if it be Kerry born -may also wander and ruminate at leisure. The road, or rather bridle track-the pony that treads it must not be a stranger-often passes along the brinks of precipices, and then descends into absolute pits; the roar of the rushing torrent is heard plainly all the while-now and then in the depths below, and now and then as a talkative and warning guide by the side of the wayfarer.

7. The dark stream is the Loe; and into its limited course through the gap it expands at several points into lakes of various and unequal magnitude, and again contracts itself to gather force for a new rush through the valley. The rocks along the pass are of forms the most grotesque; and each has received some distinguishing name

from the peasantry. Although the mountains on either side are for the most part bare, they present occasionally patches of cultivation "few and far between," but sufficient to show that even in this savage region the hand of industry may be employed with advantage. From some crevices, too, peep out the gay evergreens-high up, and often so far distant that the eye cannot distinguish the arbutus from the prickly furze.

8. Occasionally, too, the deep gloom of the pass is dispelled by the notes of Spillane's bugle-waking the echoes of the mighty hills; and now and then the eagle soars above the valley. Still it would be impossible for the very lightest-hearted to be otherwise than sad while passing through this dark and deep ravine; it oppresses the spirits with exceeding melancholy. Yet it has its own peculiar sources of pleasure; and strange as it may seem, nothing at Killarney afforded us so much intense enjoyment.

9. When the pass terminates, and the tourist is, as will be supposed, wearied in heart and foot, he suddenly comes upon a scene of unrivalled beauty. A turning in the narrow pathway brings him just over the upper lake. It was with an uncontrollable burst of enjoyment that we gazed upon the delicious scene. A short time before we had thus indulged in a luxuriant draught of nature, we had examined one of the most singular relics of very ancient art. On the side of a lofty hill is the "Logan Stone"-about twenty-four feet in circumference. The peasants call it the "balance rock," and it is doubtless a druidical remain of remote antiquity. Moore likens it to the poet's heart, which

"The slightest touch alone sets moving,

But all earth's power could not shake from its base."

-Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hali.

LAMBS AT PLAY.

1. Loosed from the winding lane, a joyful throng,
See o'er yon pasture how they pour along!
Giles round their boundaries takes his usual stroll,
Sees every gate secur'd, and fences whole;
High fences, proud to charm the gazing eye,
Where many a nestling first essays to fly;

Where blows the woodbine, faintly streak'd with red,
And rests on every bough its tender head;
Round the young ash its twining branches meet,
Or crown the hawthorn with its odour sweet.

2. Say, ye that know, ye who have felt and seen
Spring's morning smiles, and soul-enlivening green,
Say, did you give the thrilling transport way?
Did your eye brighten, when young lambs at play
Leap'd o'er your path with animated pride,
Or gazed in merry clusters by your side?
Ye who can smile, to wisdom no disgrace,
At the arch meaning of a kitten's face;
If spotless innocence, and infant mirth,
Excites to praise, or gives reflection birth;
In shades like these pursue your favourite joy,
Midst Nature's revels, sports that never cloy.

3. A few begin a short but vigorous race,
And indolence, abash'd, soon flies the place;
Thus challeng'd forth, see thither one by one,
From every side assembling playmates run;
A thousand wily antics mark their stay,
A starting crowd impatient of delay.
Like the fond dove, from fearful prison freed,
Each seems to say, "Come, let us try our speed;"
Away they scour, impetuous, ardent, strong,
The green turf trembling as they bound along;
Adown the slope, then up the hillock climb,
Where every mole-hill is a bed of thyme.
There panting stop; yet scarcely can refrain;

A bird, a leaf, will set them off again:
Or if a gale with strength unusual blow,
Scattering the wild-briar roses into snow,
Their little limbs increasing efforts try,
Like the torn flower the fair assemblage fly.

-Robert Bloomfield (1766–1823).

1. John Locke was one of the greatest philosophers and most powerful writers which England, rich in such minds, has produced. He was born at Wrington, Somersetshire, on the 29th of August, 1632. He was educated first at Westminster School, and afterwards at Christ

Church College, Oxford. In consequence of a feeble constitution Locke combined the study of medicine with that of ethics and metaphysics; but though he never took the degree of doctor, or practised the healing art professionally, his knowledge of it was so respectable, that he was generally addressed by the title of Doctor of Medicine. 2. After the Restoration he had tempting offers to become a diplomatist; but he preferred the study of philosophy to political honours, although he became the friend and counsellor of the Earl of Shaftesbury. After a life chiefly spent in study, Locke, in 1675, repaired to the south of France for the benefit of his health; and his journal of a four years' residence there shows how closely he watched, and how sagaciously he investigated the great events that passed before his notice. His con

nection with Shaftesbury involved him in the earl's disgrace; and when the latter was obliged to retire to Holland, Locke followed at the close of 1683, and remained in that country until the Revolution, when he returned home in the same fleet that conveyed the Princess Mary to England. But during the interval his exile had not been unmolested; for through a groundless charge of treason preferred against him in his absence, he was formally ejected from his student's place in Christ Church College; and in consequence of Monmouth's insurrection, in which he was causelessly suspected to have had a share, an application was made by the English envoy to the Dutch government to have Locke sent home a prisoner. On the settlement of William and Mary, Locke had high offers to go abroad in a public capacity, but contented himself with the office of commissioner of appeals, which brought him a small revenue of £200 per annum.

3. Matters of greater importance, indeed, and more congenial to his character than embassies and state negotiations, were at present absorbing his attention; for in the following year (1690) he completed and published his renowned masterpiece, the Essay on Human Understanding, a work which he had begun to plan so early as 1670. Its appearance was startling; it was a